


Everyone Says Hi

by Piekie



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piekie/pseuds/Piekie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to Firecrotch, he’s stuck in a smelly old van with Lip fucking Gallagher. If a bullet hasn’t killed Ian when they finally find him, Mickey will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Four Days, Six Hours, Twenty-Eight Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first ever multi-chapter Shameless fic. Basically Mickey and Lip on a roadtrip to find Ian in the army and bring him home. What could go wrong, right?  
> Title comes from David Bowie's Everyone Says 'Hi'.

_Said you'd took a big trip_  
 _They said you moved away_  
 _Happened oh so quietly, they say_  
  
It had been four days, six hours and twenty-eight minutes (not that he was counting or anything, fuck that, he just had a good memory) since Ian Gallagher had left the Milkovich house and Mandy had called him a pussy.  
Mickey had been in bed ever since. It wasn’t like he was crying over Firecrotch or anything; hell no, fuck Firecrotch and his stupid assumptions about Mickey and his feelings. No, he just didn’t feel like facing Mandy and the judgmental looks she threw his way, he didn’t feel like going into the living room only to see Svetlana smiling at him with a mixture of sadness and gratitude in her eyes, he didn’t wanna see anyone from that stupid annoying Gallagher clan. Mickey just wanted to sleep for a little while. A week, maybe two. And then he’d get out of bed and find some faggot on the street and beat his ass to pulp. It would make Terry happy and it would make Mickey numb, just the way he liked it.  
  
Mickey stretched his arm out from his sleeping bag and grabbed the half-empty beer can next to the bed. He winced slightly as he swallowed; warm beer really was fucking disgusting, but it had to do. There was no way he was gonna get up and make his way to the fridge. Besides, warm or not, the beer caused a pleasant buzz, some sort of a layer of softness in his brain that every thought bounced off of.  
There was a soft knock at the door. Mickey sighed. It had to be Svetlana, no one else had the actual fucking decency to knock whenever the hell they wanted something. She stuck her head around the door, looked at him with a hint of concern.  
Mickey really wished he had some weed right now, because the beer wasn’t enough to keep the memory of him fucking Svetlana into the couch while Terry looked at him with both pride and a warning in his eyes and while a few tears made their way down Gallagher’s cheeks at bay. It wasn’t that he disliked Svetlana per se; she just reminded him of where it all went to shit. He might have to look at her during the day and they might have to share a bed, but there was no way in hell he was gonna share anything from his life or bedcovers with her.  
  
‘What?’ he growled, his voice croaking from not using it in four days.  
‘There… is man. At door. He ask for you,’ she said, her words thick with her accent. She kept looking back over her shoulder as if she was scared.  
Heavy footsteps sounded on the floorboards in the direction of Mickey’s (well, technically also Svetlana’s) room. Svetlana let out a gasp as she was pushed aside roughly and Mickey pretended not to notice the way she immediately folded her hands over her belly, protecting what was inside.  
The door was almost pushed out of its hinges by a very drunk and very angry Lip Gallagher as he stumbled into Mickey’s room, throwing a lamp on the floor as he tried to keep himself upright.  
Mickey groaned and pulled the covers over his head. Why the fuck couldn’t anyone just leave him alone, just for a couple of days? Lip had probably found out about Firecrotch leaving thanks to Mickey, and now he was here, either to yell at Mickey or to beat him up. Apparently it was the second option. Mickey felt his sleeping bag being pulled away from him as a fist connected with his face, right on his collarbone. Jesus fucking Christ, even drunk Gallagher could hit pretty hard. Fucking douchebag.  
Mickey jumped out of bed (which was pretty impressive, given the amount of beer he’d been drinking) and took a swing at Lip, smirking satisfied as he felt his fist connect with bone.  
Lip almost lost his balance, but steadied himself and punched Mickey in the stomach, forcing him to his knees as Mickey groaned. He felt Lip’s hands pushing at his shoulders, trying to force him onto his back on the cold floor, straddling Mickey’s legs.  
Mickey punched into the air and hit Lip’s nose, a nauseating crack was heard as blood started running down his face.  
  
Mickey didn’t hear Mandy come in, but suddenly she was there, screaming at Lip to get the fuck off her brother right the fuck now or she would bash his head in with a frying pan. Lip’s weight was pulled off of him and Mickey sat upright, groaning as he felt a pang in his abdomen.  
Lip sat crouched on the floor, cradling his broken nose in his hands as he fruitlessly tried to stop the bleeding. Good, at least he hurt that fucker.  
Svetlana still stood in the doorway, wringing her hands together. Mandy just gave both Mickey and Lip a look of disgust and turned away, marching out of the room, muttering something that sounded like ‘losers’ and ‘fucking freakshow’.  
Mickey waved Svetlana away. ‘Fuck off, go do some girly shit, leave us alone.’ The irritated tone in his voice seemed to scare Svetlana off and she went back into the living room, where Mickey heard her turn on the tv.  
‘What the fuck, Gallagher!’ Lip leaned his head back while looking Mickey in the eye, trying to stop the bleeding. His voice sounded choked off when he said: ‘Oh fuck you Milkovich, you know just as well as I do what this is about.’  
Mickey avoided Lip’s gaze and grabbed a pack of cigarettes of the floor, lighting one and then throwing the pack and lighter to Lip. It was the closest thing to a peace offering Mickey could give him. Lip lit a cigarette, his bloody fingers leaving red prints.  
Mickey watched silently as Lip blew a steady stream of smoke towards the ceiling.  
  
‘She nice?’ Why the fuck would Gallagher talk about Svetlana? He should just tell Mickey to go fuck himself for what he did to Ian and then go home and never bother Mickey or his sister again. Fucking Gallaghers should mind their own fucking business. However, Mickey couldn’t deny he was curious whether Lip had heard from Firecrotch. Just curious if he hadn’t gotten his ass shot off, that is. Not like Mickey cared or somethin’. It would suck for Mandy, that’s all.  
Mickey shrugged. ‘She’s okay, I guess. Quiet, makes dinner, gets me beer.’ Lip nodded thoughtfully, eyeing Mickey up, almost scanning him as if he wanted to see a crack in Mickey’s mask. It made him nervous and reminded him of Firecrotch and that made his stomach clench uncomfortably, so he frowned. ‘What the hell you lookin’ at, Gallagher?’ ‘Just trying to see the appeal, I guess,’ Lip replied lightly, riling Mickey up.  
‘Just trying to see why the fuck you matter so much that Ian would join the army to get away from you. Quite frankly, I don’t see it.’ The challenging look in Lip’s eyes had changed into a harsh one, an accusing one. Mickey cracked his knuckles. Big fucking mouth on Gallagher. Mickey didn’t like it.  
‘Shut the fuck up, Gallagher. If anyone’s fucked up big time it’s you, with my sister. Now get the fuck out of my house.’ Mickey got up, kicking Lip in the side. Lip winced, but stayed where he was.  
‘No. Listen. Mandy said… Well, she said a lot of things, mostly what a useless scumbag I am, but she also said that Ian came to see you before he left. I need to know if he said anything about how he was planning to join the army, being seventeen and all.’  
Mickey bit the side of his mouth. ‘So, Firecrotch didn’t say anything to any of you?’  
Lip looked down, rubbing dirt from his shoes with his thumb. ‘Nope. We only found out he’d left when we found a letter from him, when he’d already been gone for over two days.’  
  
The fact that Firecrotch came to see him for a final goodbye rather than his family didn’t make Mickey feel anything. Nope. Fuck that.  
‘Only thing he told me was that he’d found away around having to be eighteen,’ Mickey answered shortly.  
Lip seemed to sink into himself, almost like a balloon deflating. He rubbed his hands through his hair and when he looked up, Mickey saw something that resembled desperation on his face. ‘My ID. I thought I’d lost it, I’ve done that before, but maybe…’  
Mickey was quick to understand. ‘Firecrotch took it, pretended to be you and therefore could say he’s eighteen.’  
Lip nodded, defeated. Mickey was confused. ‘Why the fuck does that matter he took your ID? That’s good, right? When they find out he’s been using a different identity than his own, they’ll send him home.’ Mickey pretended that those words didn’t sound as hopeful in his head as the way they came out of his mouth.  
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Lip sighed. ‘But uh… I was planning on going to MIT, maybe. I mean, maybe I owe it to Mandy. After all she did for me and stuff.’  
Mickey scoffed. ‘Don’t make this about Mandy, asshole, all you care about is you.’  
‘Shut the fuck up, Milkovich.’ Lip seemed genuinely angry. ‘I don’t care about just me all the fucking time. I care about Mandy and I care about my family. Fiona hasn’t slept in days and all Debs does is cry and Carl is even more of a sociopath than before. I wanna find Ian, but not just for me. I wanna find him because I fucking care about my family.’  
Mickey almost smiled. These fucking Gallaghers, loyal as dogs to each other.  
‘So, you just plan on finding him and dragging him home? You expecting him to come with you voluntarily?’  
‘No.’ Mickey didn’t like the smirk on Lip’s face at all. ‘I’m gonna find him, tell ‘em he’s using my ID, and you’re gonna come with me.’  
‘Not gonna happen Gallagher, I ain’t going nowhere with you. Fucking Firecrotch decided what he wanted, let him get his ass shot off, it’s his own stupid decision.’ Mickey turned around and grabbed another can of beer, gulping it down as fast as he could while avoiding Lip’s gaze. Lip got up off the floor and actually fucking _smiled_ at Mickey.  
‘You can pretend not to care about Ian all you want, Mickey, I know you do.’  
And with those words Lip left the room, blood dried on his face, cigarette still in his mouth.  
  
Mickey really should just go back to bed; it was the only right decision. But as he settled back into his sleeping bag, all he could think about was how convenient it was they had this sleeping bag, and that they probably had a duffle bag lying around somewhere in the messy attic.  
Fucking Gallaghers and their shitty ideas. Mickey Milkovich did not give a fuck. And he wasn’t going anywhere.


	2. The Backpack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, English is not my native language, so my tenses are kind of shit. Hope it doesn't bother you guys too much.  
> Thanks for all the love!

_Should've took a picture  
Something I could keep  
Buy a little frame, something cheap  
For you  
Everyone says hi_ _  
_  
Mickey had been standing across the street for at least a good half hour now, probably looking like some dumbass idiot as he stared at the Gallagher house, constantly shifting from one foot to the other and rubbing his thumb across his lower lip. Jesus Christ, he had to look like some fucking retard right now to anyone who might pass by. He should just cross the fucking street, knock on the fucking door and go inside. To talk to Lip, tell him he could fuck off with his stupid idea to get Firecrotch, that Lip was a fucking asshole for the whole MIT bullshit story. Lip should just let Firecrotch make his own damn decisions about going to whatever fucking country had the highest amount of dead US soldiers every year. Whatever, right? Firecrotch’s decision. Mickey didn’t really give a fuck.  
Unfortunately, the backpack slung on one shoulder was an uncomfortable reminder that maybe he did give the tiniest fuck. Which was pretty bad. Not that Mickey _cared_ or something. He just missed getting fucked by Firecrotch, really. Hell, he missed getting fucked in general. He hadn’t had a dick up his ass since Firecrotch decided to leave. Wasn’t like Mickey had some weird idea about him and Firecrotch being boyfriends or whatever. He just preferred Firecrotch’s dick to anyone else’s. That was all there was to it.   
  
Abruptly, Mickey set foot onto the street and was almost instantly hit by a shiny silver car. Fucking goddamn rich asshole behind the wheel, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. The guy got out, immediately running his mouth at Mickey: “What the fuck are you doing?! Watch the fucking street when you cross!”   
Mickey flipped him off indignantly, feeling smug as he saw the guy’s face falter a little at the tattoos on his knuckles. “Watch where you drive your fucking car, shithead.”   
He jumped up the steps to the Gallagher front door, raising his eyebrows when the guy followed suit. “What the fuck do you want? Your car’s fucking fine, don’t start whining about some scratch you know isn’t there.”   
The guy just smiled a little condescendingly as he knocked on the door, making Mickey wanna punch him in the face to see if he could turn that into an expression of pain.   
“My girlfriend lives here. I think it’s my job to ask you what the hell you’re doing here.” Apparently, rich guy was stickin’ it in Fiona Gallagher.  
“Here for Lip,” Mickey replied shortly. Then the door opened and the confused face of Fiona appeared. Before she could say anything, Mickey roughly pushed past her into the house, ignoring her “Hey! Where the fuck do you think you’re going, Milkovich?!”   
He walked into the kitchen, where the youngest Gallagher stared with surprise at this unfamiliar visitor. Mickey dumped his backpack on the floor, then took the stairs two steps at a time and barged into the room he knew Firecrotch shared with two of his brothers.   
  
Lip was sitting on his bed, poring over some science book, a joint hanging loosely between his fingers. Mickey deliberately ignored the stripped bed in the corner of the room. Lip looked up, not even a hint of surprise in his face, and that annoyed the hell out of Mickey. Mickey Milkovich was not fucking predictable.    
“Come to go with me then?” Lip said in a way too fucking cheerful tone of voice as he closed his book and jumped off his bed.   
“No, fuckface, I’m here to tell you that it’s a dumbass move and I think you should leave Firecrotch alone. He’s a big boy, he can decide for himself what he wants.”   
“Well, last time he decided for himself what he wanted he ended up getting his heart broken and the only solution he saw was enlisting, so fuck that, I’m not gonna let him die in Iraq or wherever the fuck they wanna send him to.”  
Mickey didn’t like Lip looking at him the way he did right now. It was written all over his face that he was blaming Mickey for Ian leaving. Worst thing was that he was right, and Mickey didn’t like the heavy feeling of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.   
Lip just stared at him expectantly, challenging him to deny what he just said. Before Mickey had a chance to react though one of the younger Gallaghers walked in. Mickey didn’t remember his name, except that this one was a little fucking sociopath. Firecrotch had told Mickey he would probably like the kid. Mickey bit the side of his mouth again.   
“Hey assface, Fiona told me to tell you that you’ve gotta get that backpack downstairs out of the way,” the kid said, not even looking twice at Mickey.   
“’s Not mine, Carl, maybe it’s Debs’.” Carl shook his head. “She’s been in her room all day again, and the backpack wasn’t there this morning.”   
Mickey said: “It’s mine” the same moment Lip asked his brother: “Still in her room? What, this is like the third day in a row?”  
Carl shrugged. “I dunno. I just heard her crying through the door.”   
  
Lip sighed and walked out of the room through the hallway. Mickey felt like a dumbass just standing there in a room that he didn’t belong and didn’t wanna be in and so he followed Lip.   
Lip knocked on a door that had ‘DEBBIE’ in colorful letters on it, adorned with little flowers. There was no answer from inside, but Mickey thought he heard a faint sob. Lip opened the door softly, whispering: “Debs?”   
The sobbing was louder now. Lip’s jaw clenched for a tiny second, then he asked: “Is it Ian?” An affirmative hiccup made the guilt wash over Mickey again. He might be an asshole, but there was a little girl who was crying because she’d lost her brother and he’d been the cause of that. He had a brief flashback to him and Mandy when they were kids, Mandy always wanting to snuggle up to him on the couch so that she’d feel safe. He’d complained about it, but in reality he’d liked it. It was one of the few things he could do for his little sister, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Ian had ever spent a night with his little sister’s head on his shoulder while she slept.    
“You wanna eat anything?” Lip asked. A whispered “No” came from the darkness. Lip closed the door again, running a hand over his face. “Out of all of us, I think Deb took Ian leaving the hardest. Even though Carl’s also been blowing shit up even more than usual the past couple of days.” Mickey didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say.   
“I guess I better go see what Fiona wants,” Lip said after a short, uncomfortable silence. Mickey followed him down the stairs.   
  
From a completely objective point of view, Fiona Gallagher was quite pretty, even Mickey had to admit that. But now she just looked worn out and worried, her hair messy and tangled and dark circles clearly visible under her eyes, as she was busy making an enormous amount of sandwiches, slapping rich guy on the hand as he tried to steal one.   
“Lip, you’re old enough to clean your shit up, please don’t leave your backpack where other people break their necks over it,” she sighed.   
“Uh, actually, it’s mine. Sorry,” Mickey added after a short pause. Fiona looked up, once again surprised as if she’d completely forgotten he’d just walked past her into the house.   
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lip’s head turn around, staring at him. Mickey ignored him.  
“So, we are doing this! Okay, wow. I never actually thought you’d do it!” Lip was actually _laughing_ now, his older sister looking at him like he’d gone batshit crazy.   
“Okay, Fi, I know you didn’t agree with me when I said I have to go get Ian back, but now I’m not gonna be by myself, me and Mickey can go together and bring him home.”    
Fiona just looked at Lip with raised eyebrows. “Oh really? Do tell, how do you plan on doing that?”   
“Okay, so,” Lip sat across the counter, looking at Fiona as he explained, “he took my ID with him to enlist because he’s not eighteen, so if I go there and tell them that I’m actually Lip and that Ian’s seventeen, they’re probably gonna discharge him, right?” Lip sent a pleading look rich guy’s way, but he just threw up his hands, indicating he didn’t want any part of this. Fucking pussy.   
  
Fiona Gallagher was probably the only woman who had ever denied Lip anything and didn’t look like a complete fucking emptyheaded idiot when he talked to her (like Karen Jackson and, fucking hell, his own sister) and that’s why Mickey already kind of liked her, especially since she was still looking at her brother like she was wondering what the hell was wrong with him.   
“Like hell you are going somewhere. You are gonna go to school, we’ll work something out about Ian,” she said, dumping another sandwich on an already full plate. Judging from her tone of voice and the way she threw down the knife she’d been using Mickey had the idea that the topic had been frequently discussed over the past few days.   
  
“I think they should go.”  
Mandy’s voice is so familiar to him, but somehow sounds different in this house. Softer, sweeter, more at ease, even though she sounds nervous right now. And Mickey is so fucking proud of her when she offers Lip a tight, small smile, even though he won’t ever tell her that. Mandy came here looking for him even though she’d have to run into Lip. She came here because Mickey matters to her and Ian matters to her, and Mickey suddenly regrets that he never told her about them.    
“Well Mandy, that’s not really your fucking decision here is it? I already lost one of my kids and I’m not sending the other one after him so I can lose him too.” Mandy was used to verbal abuse, she got it at home every single day, but she seemed genuinely taken aback by Fiona’s aggressive reaction. Mickey was about to tell the oldest Gallagher to shut the fuck up, you didn’t talk to his sister that way, when Fiona sighed and sunk down into a chair. “I’m sorry, Mandy, I’m just… I’m a little lost here.”   
Mandy gave her a small, forgiving smile. Lip got off his stool and crouched on the floor in front of Fiona. “Fi, I promise, I can find him and be back home in two weeks tops. I’m smart; I’ll catch up easily on school after I’m back. And I’m not gonna be alone,” he added, giving Mickey a sideways glance. Mickey just looked down at his shoes, but bit-by-bit his resistance was crumbling. Firecrotch leaving had fucked his family up worse than he thought. It wasn’t like Mickey felt _that_ sorry for them, but he also knew it was his fault, and that this might be his only way to fix it. And while he was at it, he thought as he looked at Mandy uncomfortably standing there, arms crossed and obviously avoiding looking at Lip, he could make clear to the oldest Gallagher son that either he stopped being a fucking douchebag to Mandy or he could get the special Mickey Milkovich treatment while they were on the road together.   
  
Fiona threw her hands up in mock defeat, but she was smiling at the same time. “Fine, Lip. It seems you’ve got it all planned out. But two weeks, and if you’re not back, I’m sending every cop in the country after you. Got it?” Lip grinned and, still sitting on his knees on the floor, enveloped his sister in a bone-crushing hug. Rich guy just clapped Lip on the shoulder.   
Mickey looked over at Mandy, slightly uncomfortable. He’d never been the touchy-feely type, not even with her, but just walking out the door with a ‘see ya, Mands’ didn’t seem right either. Mandy however never had a problem with hugging, and when she wrapped her arms around his neck he whispered against her ear: “I’ll beat him up for you.” It wasn’t much, but it was the closest thing to affection Mickey could muster.   
She smiled a little sadly as she pulled back. “That’s okay. Just… Bring Ian home, okay?” He could smell the mixture of smoke and gum on her breath, he noticed she was just a tiny bit shorter than he was now, and he wondered when the hell Mandy had grown up so fast.   
Their goodbye was interrupted by Lip, dangling car keys in his hand. “Let’s go.”  
Mickey grabbed his backpack off the floor quickly and followed Lip wordlessly out the front door, leaving Mandy in the kitchen with the rest of the Gallaghers.   
He didn’t suppress his snicker as he saw the rusty old van on the lawn.   
  
“Lip!” Fiona’s voice came from the door. “You didn’t bring anything with you.”   
Lip just opened the side door of the van, showing a heap of blankets, a bag and a six-pack of beer. “I’ve had this stuff packed since last Tuesday.”   
Fiona just rolled her eyes at him. After a final wave and a middle finger from Carl, the front door closed. Lip slid the door closed again and got into the van behind the steering wheel. Of course the fucking asshole would want to drive.   
Mickey got in the other side and threw his backpack carelessly over his shoulder on the heap of stuff in the back.   
Lip grinned at Mickey as he drove the van off the lawn, then turning and speeding up on the road. “Stop fucking smiling at me, Gallagher, we ain’t besties here,” Mickey spat at him, but Lip’s grin just widened.   
Mickey saw his sister leave the Gallagher house through the backdoor. Lip honked and Mandy turned, flipping both of them off. She disappeared in the distance as the van accelerated.   
Lip turned on the radio, and started whistling along with some crappy whiny song as he smirked at Mickey fucking _again_.    
Fuck, this was gonna be a long drive. 

 


End file.
